Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 30

I huff under my breath. Of course. Evasive as hell. I shake my head, spot a guy with a cooler and some bottled water a few feet away.

“I’m getting water,” I mutter, standing. “Want one?”

He just nods.

I walk off, grateful for the space to breathe. The sun’s up but it’s cooling now, air lighter. I dig out a couple bills and hand them over, the guy rummages through ice. As I glance back toward the bench, I see someone walking up to Jax. Mid-20s maybe, tallish, toned, attractive. Not someone I recognize, so I assume it’s just a dude asking for directions or something. But when the guy stops in front of him and says something, Jax looks up, expression unreadable, but there’s recognition in his eyes.

My chest tightens for some fucked up reason. I grab the waters and start back, slower now.

By the time I reach them, I’m catching the tail end of the exchange.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” the guy is saying, not even trying to lower his voice. “Everyone at The Pit told me. I should’ve fucking listened.”

Jax’s voice is flat. “Yeah, you should’ve.”

The guy laughs, bitter and slightly humiliated. Then his eyes slide to me. They flick down my frame, then back up, and something mean curls across his lips.

“Watch yourself,” he mutters. “He’s got a type, and it doesn’t last.”

He strides off before I can even register a response. I stand there for a beat, staring after him, holding both bottles of water like an idiot.

" Who was that? "

“No one important.”

I sit down beside him slowly. “Seemed pretty fucking pissed for someone unimportant.”

He shrugs and doesn’t elaborate.

I look out at the guy getting smaller in the distance, shoulders tense, hands clenched. He looks like a guy who thought he mattered. Who thought he was different. Like he’d fallen for something that was never real.

It hits me then. Like a slow goddamn punch to the stomach.

That was once me. That is me. Or will be, eventually.

I stare down at the water bottle in my hand, grip it tighter than I mean to.

And for the first time, I wonder what the hell I’m doing here. What I’m setting myself up for.

Because Jax might play hot and cold, soft one second and wicked the next, but that guy—he had that same look in his eyes I used to have. Because I’ve been here before. Different faces, same script. Back when I first came out and I let myself fall too fast for guys who only knew how to take. Guys who made me feel too much, too fast, then left me with nothing but ache. Selfish, emotionally constipated assholes who knew exactly how to reel me in and leave me gasping. When I thought I could earn love by being compliant, by bending. I swore I’d never do it again, I feel that old pull creeping in. That warning bell I’m trying to ignore. And all I can think is: what the hell am I getting myself into?

I hand him the water without looking at him, fingers brushing too long. Stupid. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn't have stayed. I shouldn’t have let it get this far, whatever “this” even is. I take out my phone and pretend to check the time, even though I already know it’s early. Still, I push to my feet. “I should get going.”

He archs an eyebrow, mouth twitching like he wants to say something cocky. I cut in before he can. “Thanks for lunch. That makes us even. We don’t owe each other anything now.”

I reach for my cap but his hand catches my wrist—tight. There’s a dare in his grip. A warning. “Why’re you running off?” he asks, voice almost playful. But there’s an edge, there always is with him.

I pull my arm free. “Let go.”

His fingers slip away, and I grab my cap, shoving it on. My pulse is hammering and I hate that he can probably see that. “Goodbye, Jax. And do me a favor....let’s stay out of each other’s way from now on.” My voice is flat. Firm.

He doesn't say anything, I turn and walk anyway, even if my chest feels tight and my legs feel like they’re made of glass. Because if I don’t walk away now, I won’t.

********

Lucid is the kind of place that always feels like it's breathing....sweaty bodies moving under neon lights, music pulsing in your chest, drinks sticky on the bar top. It’s a place that usually distracts me. Usually.

I’ve been nursing the same rum and coke for twenty minutes, perched on the corner stool like I’m waiting for someone. I’m not. Not really. Unless I’m dumb enough to admit that I thought Jax might actually show up at my place after this afternoon night. He didn’t.

I texted Addy earlier, asked if she wanted to go see a movie or anything to get out of my head. She said she was busy. Probably with some guy she met last night....knowing her, he’s hot, slightly toxic, and knows all the right things to say.

Unlike me. I’ve got zero inspiration, my sketchbook at home is still blank, and the only thing filling my brain is a man who shouldn’t be there.

I drain the rest of my drink and motion the bartender for another.

“Thought I recognized you,” a voice says beside me, low and a little nervous. I turn, and there’s a guy....sharp jawline, cropped curls, warm green eyes. Cute. Really fucking cute.

“You did?” I say, raising an eyebrow, playing along because that’s what I do.

“Yeah.” He smiles, a little bashful. “I’ve seen you here a few times. You’re kind of hard to forget.”

I let out a short laugh. “Well, damn. Now I’m curious if that’s a compliment or just a warning.”

He chuckles, shifting to lean against the bar, closer now. “Definitely a compliment. I always wanted to come talk to you but… you were usually with someone.”

“ Was I now? "

He laughs again. It’s a good sound. Natural. Uncomplicated.

“I guess tonight’s my lucky night, first in line for the guy everyone's silently drooling over,” he says, giving me this small grin, cocky but sweet.

" That so?" I smile. " Guess I'll have to make sure I'm worth the hype. "

“Can I buy you a drink?” He offers, I look at the fresh glass already in front of me. “Beat you to it,” I say, swirling the glass a little. “But hang around, I might get generous and buy you something overpriced and pretty. Like you.”

He laughs and slides onto the stool beside me. “I’m Eli, by the way.”

“Xander.”

He already knew that, probably heard it somewhere, or maybe he just guessed. I’m not exactly low-profile here, it's why I took a break from the place.